Homemade Love
by Politics.and.Prose
Summary: Six more weeks. He had six more weeks in theater and then he could go home.


Six more weeks. He had six more weeks in theater and then he could go home. Sure, he was posted in Colorado but he was going to get leave and he was going to go to New York and he was going to ask Rachel to marry him. No, it wouldn't be an easy first year of engagement because she lived in New York and he would be in Colorado or wherever the Army sent him, but after that, a year in August, he was in the reserves and off active duty and he could be with her as long as he reported when he was supposed to. So, yeah, it would be a year more of Skype and calls and texts and maybe a visit over break, but then after that everything would fall into place. He could move to New York, find a job, marry Rachel … probably in that order but everything was negotiable.

He was just finishing up another letter to her – he wrote every day that he could – when he heard his platoon leader call for them all to fall in. He put down his pen and made his way to the designated area, standing at attention until they were put at ease. He shut his eyes for a brief second, praying to every god he could think of that they weren't being redeployed and being told to stay. He wanted to go home and see his girlfriend, make her his fiancée, just see her face for the first time in sixteen and a half months.

When he thought of it like that, it seemed like forever. She was a junior in college, most of his friends were at this point. His active time in the Army would only last a couple months after she graduated. It had been a rough two and a half years, they'd had fights and near-breaks and tears and screaming and just so much drama but it was him and her and that was them and he was okay with the drama as long as the ring in his footlocker at Carson was going to be on her finger in six weeks. Maybe six and a half, depending on timing and when they took a longer than fifteen minute break from _reuniting_ when he got to New York.

"... in three days," he tuned back in for. Shit. He'd missed like the whole speech thinking about going home to Rachel. A quick glance showed the guys in his unit trying to hold back smiles and that probably didn't mean that they were going to have to stay longer. In fact … that might mean …

When they were dismissed, he grabbed one of his bunkmates by the arm. "Dude, I totally zoned out. What happened? What's going on in three days?"

Gerardi just grinned. "Pack your shit, Drummer Boy. Our ride home's gonna be here in three days. You got that proposal speech written yet?" The other man then clapped him on the shoulder and headed back towards their tent, whistling the whole way.

Three days. He was going home in three days, could be in Manhattan in, like, six, be back with Rachel, have two weeks with her – which wasn't long enough but he would take it and he knew she would too – and then get on with his duty until he could get out. He loved the Army, he did, but he loved Rachel more and he was eager to be able to show her that every day of the week. In person.

The three days passed quickly and before he knew it, he was on an Air Force C17 back to the States. It was a long flight, though much faster than a commercial plane would be, and he fell face first into his bed the moment he was back at Fort Carson. He'd decided immediately that he wasn't going to tell Rachel he was coming so that he could really surprise her when he got there. Her surprised face was one of his favorites.

The next couple of days were spent debriefing and getting a new job assignment on post before he was dismissed for two weeks – two glorious, long but short, love filled weeks – of leave. He packed his bag, the ring safely nestled in a pair of socks which was tucked deeper inside a t-shirt that he knew she would be stealing at some point over his break.

He grabbed a hop to Ft. McGuire in Jersey and took the first train into New York that he could. He was in his fatigues, as usual, but he knew by the time the night rolled around he would probably be in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt watching his girlfriend (fiancée?) singing to a crowd at Callbacks. He wouldn't have it any other way though, because he was still on the Army's time until he set foot in New Jersey and got off the AFB, so he didn't have time to change.

He took a cab from Penn Station straight to her apartment. She and Kurt had moved since their freshman year, now to a nice place near Washington Square Park, which was right by school so he definitely felt better about it. He loved her and he wanted her safe and in well-lit areas and not near the creepy guy that always tried to take his pants on the rare occasions he was able to visit her. It wasn't often but the dude was pretty insistent and he had a feeling that Rachel probably would have bought him a pair of pants if she ever heard it and he really didn't want her making nice with creeps who want other guy's pants.

Grinning, he headed to the alley that had a set of stairs up to their apartment. It wasn't in a normal complex or anything, but was over a vintage clothing store that Rachel liked to shop in. He liked the place and she did too and he was trying to think of a way to make sure his brother was out of it in a year and a half because he kinda wanted to live there with Rachel and not have his brother underfoot. But they could talk about that when the time got closer. And he had enough money to buy something to bribe Kurt with.

He turned the corner and his breath caught in his throat because Rachel was outside on the balcony, a cup of coffee in her hands as she leaned against the railing, apparently staring at nothing. She was ready for the day and a quick glance at his watch showed it was only 8:30. She always was an early riser. He wasn't and he supposed it was really good that she was because when they had kids, he could totally put them down at night and she could get them up for school in the morning. But that was a while off so he should probably stop thinking about that and start moving.

His feet wouldn't move though, so he let his eyes rake over her frame. She'd come out to Colorado to see him off for his deployment but that was nearly eighteen months ago. She hadn't changed, not one bit, except maybe she got even more beautiful. He didn't know how that happened and she always blushed when he said it but it was true. He knew in his heart that she got more beautiful every day and she would continue to do so because every day she was still with him, still loved him, was the best day of his life.

He smiled as his eyes started at her feet, a pair of bright red heels covering them. She had told him she was wearing heels once to give the illusion that she was taller. He wanted to point out that she _was_ taller in heels but he got distracted by her legs and that discussion was tabled. Speaking of her legs, his eyes traveled up, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as he traced the shape of them, frowning slightly when they morphed into the ruffles of a navy blue dress. The journey continued over the dress, up to her mostly-bare arms (that were blocking her breasts, damnit) and up her neck to her face.

He let himself stare for just a moment longer before calling out, "You look pretty deep in thought for it being so early."

Her head whipped towards him and a smile broke out on her face, the coffee mug falling from her hands. He couldn't hear the word but he could see her whisper his name. The corner of his mouth ticked up as he watched her attempt to flatten her (perfect) hair. After a second she froze and rubbed at her eyes, then opened them again. He was about to ask if she was okay when she screamed his name, like, really loud, and started down the stairs.

Seeing the worst case scenario of her catching her shoe and falling (and also wanting to be as close to her as possible as soon as he possibly could), he dropped his bag and ran for the steps. She was about five steps up when he reached them and she just kind of launched herself into his arms, her own coming around him as she buried her face in his neck. She threw out a million questions in a rabid fire manner and he couldn't understand a single one of them but he answered her anyway because he knew what they were.

"A couple days ago. We got called back early. I wasn't hurt. No one died at my camp. I used sunscreen when I could. I missed you too. I love you more than anything." He grinned when she pulled back to stare at him, her eyes combing over his face to make sure he was telling the truth. "Aside from a wicked tan, I'm the exact same guy who left a year and a half ago."

She kissed him then, hard and fierce and deep and this was something that probably shouldn't be happening in public but he was pretty sure worse things happened in this alley so whatever. When they broke for air, he placed her on the second step before joining her. He was going to lead her back up the stairs but he couldn't just yet, already missing the taste of her lips. He bent and kissed her again, this time softer. "I love you so much," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you too," she told him with a smile before she bit down on her bottom lip and then took his hand. She glanced over and must have seen her coffee cup from before, the handle now broken from its fall. When she made a move to go pick it up, he halted her with a hand on her hip and a shake of his head. "Later?" she asked. When he nodded, she affirmed with a, "I'll get it later. Let's get you inside."

He kissed her on the lips and pointed over his shoulder. "Just gotta get my bag, baby," he said with a smile before hopping off the stairs and jogging to pick it up. When he turned around, Rachel was staring at him, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. "What?" he asked with a laugh.

"Just admiring your rear retreat, Specialist," she said with a grin that he could only describe as naughty. "But I think I'm looking forward to your full frontal advancement." She then curled her fingers at him in a _come hither_ fashion and, well, it had been a _long_ eighteen months.

"Advancing now, ma'am," he said with a grin as he shouldered his bag and made his way back over to her. He paused on the second step again, leaning in to kiss her. He met her eyes and he knew without a doubt that he would be going to Callbacks with his _fiancée_ tonight because there was no way he was going to be able to not ask her. He would have done it then and there but he thought she probably wouldn't want his second proposal to be in an alley when his first was in their auditorium. He didn't know if he would do it upstairs or at NYADA – or maybe on Bow Bridge this afternoon – but he knew that before the stars came out, there would be a diamond ring on her finger again, this time for good.


End file.
